


Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

by littlemiss_m



Series: Kinktober 2018 [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Cock Worship, Corsetry, Lingerie, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 21:09:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17271161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemiss_m/pseuds/littlemiss_m
Summary: Noctis goads Prompto into dressing up in pretty lingerie.





	Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober day 6, corset & cock worship.

”But _why_?”

Feeling stupefied and more than a little embarrassed, Prompto tore his gaze away from the elegant, black box stamped with a massive silver crest, and turned to face Noctis instead. The way his best friend-slash-lover squirmed under his eyes brought some sort of a vindictive relief to Prompto, but then again, he also began to feel the first butterflies rioting in his belly.

”Well,” Noctis mumbled, starting out strong but losing wind before the first syllable was over, ”I just thought – it might be fun. Y'know, weird sex fun.”

Noctis shrugged, and Prompto continued staring at him.

”Yes,” he agreed, nodding slowly, empathetically, the box a burning presence near his thigh; Prompto was tempted to flip one of Noctis' pillows over on top of it. ”But I don't see why it's gotta be _me_ wearing them.”

The deepening blush on Noctis' face was truly adorable. ”I ordered them in your size,” he said, crossing his arms behind his back like a naughty school kid caught red-handed, ”so they wouldn't fit me.”

”Dude, you've got, like, an inch on me.”

”Yeah, but you're _tiny_.”

Prompto's nose scrunched up in distaste as his arms crossed over his chest. He turned to eye the box still sitting next to him on Noctis' plush bed and tried to tell himself that he wasn't interested, that he didn't care for what was inside or what Noctis had planned, yet despite the words he forced into his mind, he couldn't cool down the beginnings of a fire simmering at the very bottom of his stomach, begging for more and more attention the longer he hesitated.

”We don't have to,” Noctis murmured, still shifting nervously near the foot of the bed. ”I'll just, I'll put it away and we can go back to gaming and shit–”

As Noctis rushed towards the bed, hands already reaching for the box, Prompto acted faster than he could think. Squeaking out loud, he grabbed the box before Noctis could get to it and held onto it, almost hugging it to his chest, and a second later, they had both frozen still, eyes locked on each other and their hands on the elegant box.

Slowly, a smirk spread on Noctis' face, and Prompto found himself blushing. ”So you _do_ want to,” Noctis drawled out, excitement shining through his voice. ”Aww, Prom, are we playing hard to get, now?”

”Oh, shut up!”

When Prompto's fist made contact with Noctis' chest, the other collapsed on his back on the bed, gleeful cackling filling the room around them. The heat surging across Prompto's cheeks only served to leave him feeling even more embarrassed than before, and he had to hide his face against the box or risk combusting on the spot. He didn't look up till he heard Noctis' laughter die into quiet wheezing that still rocked the soft, bouncy bed beneath them.

”So let's say I dress up for you,” Prompto murmured, glancing at Noctis' face but still avoiding eye contact. ”Hypothetically speaking, I mean. If I – _if_ I play along, what am _I_ gonna get out of it?”

The subtle pink spreading across Noctis' face was enough to make Prompto feel better in a very evil, retaliatory way, but it also brought an undeniable burn to the very pit of his stomach. He _did_ like having sex with Noctis, and it wasn't like some lingerie would be the weirdest thing either of them had ever done, and so – as his downstairs brain began to garner interest – Prompto found himself second-guessing his resistance.

”Well,” Noctis answered, dragging out the word as he sat up, ”you'll get off, so there's that. I hear lots of folks would pay high money to get to do the do with _me_ , you know.”

Prompto huffed through his nose and gave Noctis' ankle a light kick. ”Six, you're awful,” he grit out. ”' _You'll get off_ ,' like, yeah, no kidding, asshole? I could do that on my _own_ , you know.”

Rolling his eyes, Noctis rolled off the bed and took the box from Prompto. ”Fine, I'll suck your dick, _asshole_ ,” he grinned, already walking towards the ensuite. Prompto saw him dip inside the room just long enough to put the box away, and crossed his arms in the last remants of his defiance. ”Is that good enough for you?”

”I dunno,” Prompto murmured, but he didn't resist being pulled to his feet. ”I just think it totally unfair I'm gonna have to get all dolled up for you, while you're literally sitting around in old sweats that look like they haven't been washed in a month or two, dude.”

He could see the previous bravado melt off of Noctis' face as the other blushed and spluttered, but no amount of tugging at the hem of his ratty sweatshirt could have made it look fresher or more presentable. Head cocked to the side, Prompto raised an eyebrow before marching off to the bathroom, making sure to carefully slam the door behind him.

Once he saw the box sitting on the counter, he, too, felt his body slump. With a heavy sigh, Prompto traipsed over to the counter and felt along the long sides of the box until his nails caught under the lid, only hesitating for a moment before inching the lid off. Eyeing the blood-red paper fillings, he put the lid away and carefully pried apart the thin, wrinkled sheets of paper, revealing more or less what he had expected to see – something awfully small and equally lacy.

The first thing he pulled out of the box was a pair of thongs. A horrified expression rose on his face when he picked them up, daintily holding onto the thin strings that he assumed we meant to cross his hips; the front was so small he couldn't see it containing any of his junk, yet somehow, it was that exact thought that had his cock twitching in his pants. Prompto gnawed at his lip and set the underwear aside.

The rest of the outfit was much the same; black lace with golden embroidery. The bra – two flat triangels – he had expected, but the next piece made him pause. It was some sort of a waist corset, he concluded after a moment of turning it around; it also had four straps ending in metal clips dangling from it, which he just as uncertainly decided had to be some sort of a built-in garter belt, if such a thing even existed. Prompto _really_ didn't know much about lingerie, only that he liked how it looked on people, but the stockings – wispy black, ending in wide bands of soft lace – even he could recognize.

Prompto would never admit to the sheer amount of time he wasted trying to get the lingerie on. He started with the bra, thinking it an easy piece, and nearly killed his arms trying to fasten the hooks behind his back. He figured it out, eventually, a frustrated blush on his face as he swung the cups to his back, slid the hooks into the little eyelets while holding them over his chest, then swung the piece around once more and tugged the straps over his arms. Ten minutes wasted on a single piece of garment.

By the time he finally finished dressing up, he could see the blush travel down all the way from his ears to his lace-covered nipples. The corset, as flimsy and unpractical as it clearly was, made his waist look even thinner than it already was, and as he twisted and turned in front of the mirrors, Prompto wondered if he should make a thing out of wearing one. The thongs were just as useless, and he had to tuck his cockhead under the waistband to keep it from flopping out, which he was sure was a travesty and blasphemy; the stockings felt kind of nice, and the way the garter belt strap things pressed into his skin did look alluring in a very erotic sort of a fashion.

Biting down on his lip to keep from groaning at the sight of his own reflection, Prompto studied himself in the mirror. He really didn't look bad at all, and though somehow the lack of heels and his undone hair left him feeling like he had somehow half-assed the whole thing, he still felt inexplicably good about his new outfit. Sexy, even, in a way he had never considered before.

After one last twirl in front of the bathroom mirror, Prompto grabbed the last item in the box – a very sheer dressing gown with long sleeves and golden embroidery along the deep-cut neckline – and threw it over his shoulders, carefully tying the golden belt into a bow around his waist. Happy with himself, he turned to the door, but just as he laid a hand on the handle, he felt it turn down with hardly any pressure used on his part.

”Wh-wh-what!” Prompto spluttered, stepping back a little when he saw Noctis on the other side of the door, eyes dark and a small paper shopping bag in his hands. ”Were you waiting right outside the door all this time? Dude!”

Noctis pushed past him with a roll of his eyes and set the bag on the counter, his gaze sweeping past Prompto's entire body. ”Gotta finish getting you ready,” he explained, sounding cool and nonchalant in his usual way, though the slight blush on his face betrayed his true feelings. ”Which one do you like best?”

Prompto blinked, still more than a little shocked, as Noctis pulled out two lipstick tubes, uncapped them, and held them up for him to view. One was midnight-black, the other a very dark red with a slight shimmer, and had Prompto's heart not been racing over Noctis' sudden appearance, he probably would've laughed.

Instead, he just let his mouth gape open.

”I think it's the red,” Noctis murmured, twisting at the casings until more of the lipstick appeared out of the tube. He closed Prompto's mouth with one hand, then held the red lipstick over it for a moment before exchanging it for the black one. ”Yup, gotta go with red.”

”Dude–”

”Shh, you'll ruin it.”

Though his arm latched onto Noctis' elbow, Prompto couldn't even protest when he felt the lipstick press against his lips. He watched through the mirror as Noctis spread the waxy substance on, feeling oddly disconnected from his body. The end result was anything but smooth, the dark red already smearing over the edges of his lips, and Prompto had to fight very hard to avoid the urge to lick off the weird sensation.

Turning his gaze back to Noctis, Prompto was startled by the embarrassed heat in his eyes. A very tense, awkward beat passed, Noctis' eyes flitting between Prompto's lips and chest, Prompto suddenly flustered enough to consider running out of the door, but then Noctis tossed the lipstick case aside and grabbed him by the arm. Before he could protest, he felt a hot mouth slam against his and a slick tongue probing between his lips, Noctis pressing in closer, deeper, until no air existed between them and Prompto found himself dizzy with the rush of blood pounding at his veins as it hurried down to his achingly hard cock.

A small mewl slipped from Prompto's throat when Noctis eventually released his arm and pulled away, breathing almost as hard as he was. The lipstick had stained Noctis' mouth, and even before his gaze flickered over to the mirror, Prompto knew his own face must have looked twice as messy already. Noctis, with an annoyed cluck of his tongue, wiped his face on his bare forearm – leaving fading stripes of red paint on the skin – before picking up the lipstick tube once more.

This time, Prompto didn't even think of resisting while Noctis spread the lipstick on. The embarrassed flush was back on Noctis' face, but Prompto was starting to get antsy in his horniness, almost ready to take things into his own hands. When Noctis was once again done with the lipstick, Prompto rocked on the balls of his feet, arms crossed over his chest in petulant defiancy.

Noctis rose to the challenge, and even if the raw power in his eyes was tinged with embarrassment, it was nevertheless enough to have Prompto licking his lips in anticipation – or trying to, because as soon as his tongue encountered a foreign taste, he remembered the lipstick and blushed.

”So, uh.” Noctis cleared his throat. ”How's the fit?”

Of all the things Noctis could have spoken, the question was not something Prompto would have expected, even if he most likely should have seen it coming miles ahead. He blinked, taken aback, but as soon as the words registered and he remembered the tiny little thongs in no way equipped to hold him in, he felt his expression twisting into something awfully flustered.

”It's, uhh,” he stuttered, looking sideways as if expecting an out of some kind, ”it's lingerie?”

Prompto grimaced as soon as the words were out of his mouth. In front of him, Noctis quirked an eyebrow, smirking slightly as he set his hands on his waist in the image of expectancy. ”Let's have a look, then,” he said simply, only smiling wider when Prompto huffed and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. ”Chop chop, Prom, we haven't got all day.”

Grumbled words disappeared into the air as Prompto picked the hem of the dressing gown between his fingers and slowly, slightly, parted the sheer fabric to reveal his shame; that Noctis might have wanted to see his chest didn't even occur to him, not when all his thoughts were spinning around the bad fit of his thongs and how lewd it all must have looked like in Noctis' eyes. The thin waistband – a strap of fabric barely the width of his pinky nail – dug into his sensitive dick hard enough to hurt, but he knew without looking down that the tip of it was red and weeping under his belly button. Prompto was so sure that just one step would be enough to make his balls drop out of the tiny cup, or, alternatively, make the wispy lace itself rip apart at the seams.

Noctis' eyes were liquid heat where they stared at Prompto's crotch. Prompto, biting down on his lip – the lipstick already forgotten – watched Noctis' gaze, the redness of his face and the tiny glimpse of a tongue peeking out to wet a drying pair or lips, the unmistakeable bulge growing under the ratty sweats – he watched it all, and still he squirmed in place. He was breathing hard enough that the waist corset pressed into his skin on every inhale, the thin lace panels far more sturdy than he'd have guessed; though it was clear to Prompto that the garment was meant for aesthetic reasons rather than functional, the thin bones still gave hard enough a squeeze that he felt the corset constrict around his torso. It wasn't much, hardly any different from the misfortunate combination of tight jeans and a big meal, but Prompto _felt_ it all the same, and for his already overwhelmed mind, it was enough.

”Noct,” he whined, mouth trembling around the word; Noctis' gaze snapped up like a man woken from hypnosis, ”Noct, c'mon–”

He didn't exactly know what it was that he was pleading for, yet he succeeded at it all the same as Noctis surged forward to grab his wrist, hard enough to leave bruises, before finally marching out of the ensuite with Prompto doing his best to keep up. The stockings were surprisingly slick between his feet and the floor, silky soft around his toes but a little rough where the fabric stretched around his heels; if not for the carpet right outside the bathroom door, he probably would have slipped.

Prompto had been expecting the bed, but found himself pulled far past it and into the walk-in-closet larger than his own bedroom. Alarm bells were ringing in his head before Noctis had the door open, and as soon as he saw the massive, three-piece full body mirror at the very back of the room, he knew what was coming and tried to wrench himself free, only for Noctis to twirl him into his arms as if they were waltzing instead of trying to fuck. His arms buried between their bodies, Prompto could only swallow and stare past Noctis' shoulder, where the lush armchair that usually sat next to the mirror had been arranged so that it faced the silver reflection instead.

”Noctis,” he said, voice somehow firm enough to be warning, but Noctis only snorted against the side of his face and spun him around, strong arms wrapping tightly around his chest. Prompto squirmed under them, not exactly trying to get away but too self-conscious to just accept everything.

”C'mon, you look so good, Prom,” Noctis murmured. His voice was a hot breath directly below Prompto's ear, and as his hands began to wander, Prompto found himself shivering and leaning into the touch. ”Won't you please be pretty for me, just this once?”

No words came to Prompto, who whimpered and grabbed at the only thing he could reach; Noctis' hips where they pressed against his backside. Nimble, sword-calloused fingers parted the fabric of the dressing gown and grobed for the flesh underneath, bringing shivers down Prompto's spine; when a thumb brushed at his nipple, he threw his head back against Noctis' shoulder, and this time, when he found himself being walked towards the mirror, he didn't protest.

Face flaming-hot, Prompto wanted to look at anything but the mirror, yet it was where his gaze kept on moving to. On the reflection, he could see what he already felt; Noctis' hands, untying the bow around his waist, the mouth sucking bruises into his neck, the truly debased expression on his own face. Prompto saw it all and, feeling like a voyeur, grew harder and needier over it.

”Noct,” he whined, pleaded, trying to press into the body behind him and the hands at his front. Noctis chuckled darkly and tugged the dressing gown open.

”I knew you'd like it,” he murmured. His left hand trailed down Prompto's body, over the bra and the corset, bypassing the reddened cock in favor of tracing its outline against the soft, heated skin below Prompto's belly button. ”It's okay, baby, I'm gonna give you what you want.”

Noctis stepped back and helped the dressing gown down Prompto's arms. He tossed it to the side where it landed in a crumbled heap against a ceiling-heigh wall of drawers, and took Prompto by the arm once more, this time almost gently. As he was walked to the armchair, Prompto could only feel the heat on his face and the blood pounding in his head.

Once they reached the chair, Noctis spun around with a small, graceful twirl and, still holding Prompto's hand, bent his entire body into a bow straight out of a children's fairytale. When he straightened up, there was a wide grin on his face, which didn't disappear when he took Prompto by the waist and gently manhandled him into the armchair.

”Can we just get on with it,” Prompto grumbled, unable to look up at Noctis or the mirrow, too embarrassed and horny to keep on waiting much longer. He shifted on the plush pillows – that would likely end up ruined with his ass sweat and so many worse things, and gods if he didn't feel bad over the poor maid in charge of cleaning the place – and chanced a glance at Noctis, almost shrieking when he felt warm hands brace against his knees.

”Sure thing, baby.” With one last grin, Noctis leaned in for a kiss – this one short but sloppy, spit and lipstick staining everything – before dropping down on the floor. ”I was thinking 'bout sucking your pretty little cock, how's that sound?”

A strangled scream catching in his throat, Prompto pressed his hands against his face and watched Noctis push his knees apart before inching closer. Two hands grabbed him by his butt and tugged until he slid down the seat, far enough that he could feel Noctis' breath through the lace and on the bare head of his dick, and Prompto – for the few, precious seconds he had left before his brain shortcircuited – wondered just what it was that had him so embarrassed.

The first touch of Noctis' mouth on his cock had Prompto gasping, his knees trying to draw together but failing because of the body between them. Noctis clamped his hands on the insides of his thighs, fingertips playing with the garter belt straps, while he licked and sucked over the thin lace covering Prompto's dick, and Prompto – who had been hard for what felt like an eternity already – felt ready to cry. In the mirror, Noctis' head covered everything he was doing, but the reflection was lewd enough as it was, Prompto red-faced and teary-eyed, panting for breath and writhing under Noctis' touches. To feel and to see at the same time was something he wasn't used to, and as his fingers slipped into the tangled mess of Noctis' hair, he realized he was more aroused than he'd ever been before.

Between his legs, Noctis continued to lavish attention on his dick. A hot mouth and a slick tongue worked over the still entrapped shaft until the lace was dripping with saliva, yet no matter how hard Prompto whined or pulled at the slippery hair between his fingers, Noctis refused to move his ministrations elsewhere, only focusing on the bottom half of Prompto's cock. When Prompto tried to chastise him for it, he was met with dark chuckles that reverberated through his desperate member, and fingers digging deeper into the soft flesh of his thighs.

”Shh, just lemme take care of you, Prom,” Noctis murmured. He leaned up to press a kiss on Prompto's navel, just below the corset. ”You just have to be good for me, okay?”

Prompto whimpered and forced himself into a nod. It wasn't _that_ rare for Noctis to get so dominant with him, but the loving, adoring way he exerted the power was new. Usually, a dominant Noctis was a Noctis on a power trip, bratty and lazy and demanding, but this one – this was a king kneeling before his people, offering not governance but worship and servitude. Prompto bit into his lower lip, trying not to sob out loud.

When Noctis finally – finally – removed his right hand from Prompto's thigh and used it to pull the thong aside, freeing not only Prompto's cock but his balls as well, the sheer relief was so sweet that Prompto could no longer keep silent. A hand fondled his balls, already so heavy and warm and ready to explode, while that hot, slick mouth licked a wide stripe up Prompto's shaft, only to finally suck in the tip long since coated in precome. A loud shout rolled from his lungs before he could stop it as Prompto's hips bucked up, the lone hand on his leg no longer enough to keep him down.

”Sorry, sorry, sorry, gods please Noctis, please,” he babbled right after, when Noctis choked and pulled back, the air in the room like ice on the drying saliva coating Prompto's shaft. ”Please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, Noctis please–”

Still wiping spittle from his cheek, Noctis grinned up at him, his dark eyes gleaming in the dimly lit room. ”That's okay, baby,” he cooed, and normally Prompto would have taken offense over the tone and the hand rubbing his knee, but not now, not when he was already so close to coming, ”I was gonna stop soon anyways–”

Though Noctis was still speaking, Prompto felt his entire person shatter over the threat of being denied his orgasm, and he wailed, his left ankle hooking itself behind Noctis' neck in an attempt to draw him closer. Noctis fell silent for a second, but soon grinned even wider than before.

”Aww, baby,” he drawled, making kissy lips in the direction of Prompto's face, ”don't worry, I'm gonna get you off like I promised, okay? I was just thinking what an awful shame it'd be if you came just from me playing with your little dick, 'cause you've also got a really nice, slutty hole for me to use. So, as much as I like making out your dick, I think I'm just gonna put mine up your hole and let you come on that, huh. You good with that, baby?”

Prompto was horny enough that he would've been good with just about anything, as long as it promised him his eventual orgasm. While he nodded frantically, Noctis procured a small bottle of lube from somewhere and popped the lid with one thumb while using his other hand to tug at Prompto's knee. It took a moment before Prompto's lust-addled brain caught the hint, but as soon as realization did dawn on him, he shifted lower on the chair until his ass was almost hanging off of the seat's edge, his hole and cock both bared for Noctis.

The lube was cold and Noctis' probing fingers both efficient and merciless. Any further teasing would likely have been enough to bring Prompto to come right on the spot, and he tried to think of unsexy thoughts even as he brought one hand to Noctis' hair to try and tug him closer, to get that wet heat back on himself. Noctis didn't quite relent, and though he did press a line of kisses on the stretch of pale skin between Prompto's hip and the elastic lace band of the stockings, the touches were soft and tender, so light they couldn't even be called teasing.

Still, by the time Noctis was done prepping him, Prompto was a panting mess ready to beg for more, and a desperate whine dragged free from his lungs when he felt Noctis' fingers retreat. He saw Noctis wipe his hand on his pants before standing up and felt a new wave of heat rush across his face when he saw Noctis tower over him, knowing just how lewd and debauched he looked sitting there with his legs spread wide and chest heaving for breath. For a moment – how short or long, he couldn't say – Prompto stared at Noctis and the pair of eyes so dark no blue was anywhere to be seen, but as soon as hands grabbed at him, he hoisted himself up and onto his feet, all but crashing against Noctis' chest.

He hadn't really been able to touch, before, and now that Prompto had the chance – however brief it might end up being – he couldn't stop himself from gliding his palms across every inch of skin available to him. From Noctis' shoulders, he slid them down all the way to the hem of the old, butter-soft teeshirt, where he remained for one, teasingly long moment before the thirst grew too strong. Their lips together, their hands on each other, Prompto slipped his fingers under Noctis' shirt and brought them up, over quivering muscles and the subtle ridges of Noctis' ribcage.

They paused, panting, to look each other in the eye. ”I love you so fucking much,” Prompto murmured, something warm and earnest blooming deep in his heart. Noctis grinned at him and leaned in for another kiss, speechlessly tumbling them onto the chair so that Prompto sat on Noctis' clothed lap.

”So let me worship you, then,” Noctis groaned just as Prompto twisted to kiss him over his shoulder, the words disappearing between them. ”C'mon, baby, lift up a little–”

Gasping, Prompto struggled to find something to brace against, eventually setting his palms on the wide armrests and his feet on the seat, so that he was more or less squatting over Noctis' thighs. Looking at the mirror, he saw that his body covered the most critical parts of Noctis – his own cock swinging heavy between his legs – but he could hear the rustle of soft fabric, and then, seconds later, the plastic click of the lube bottle being opened.

Prompto was horny enough that he would've happily sat on Noctis' dick even without the added slick, and the waiting had him whimpering; the dark chuckle rising from behind him only served to fuel the fires in his crotch, leaving him desperate and wanting. He knew Noctis was done when he saw him once again wipe his hand on the already soiled pants, and immediately began to push his ass in the direction of Noctis' lap, gasping when he finally felt the slick slide of a dick brushing against the curve of his ass.

It took a little more fumbling from both of them to guide their bodies into the right positions, but soon Prompto slumped against Noctis' chest. Slowly, panting for breath, he slid down the thick shaft inside of him, then up once more, taking more and more of it inside of him with each downstroke until he bottomed out.

”Six, you feel so good, Noct,” he gulped, twisting into a kiss. ”You're so good in me, I love it, please–”

All of sudden, Noctis grabbed him by the thighs and shoved, causing Prompto's feet to slide off the seat. Noctis' grunt was completely lost under the strangled scream spilling from Prompto's lips when the change in position drove the dick inside him just that much deeper, a hard thrust set up by the weight of Prompto's body. His legs spread even wider, until his ankles hooked over the armrests, and with slack-jawed awe he found himself staring at the image in the mirror: him, spread open on Noctis' cock, dressed in thin lingerie and smeared lipstick while Noctis still wore the old rags he only ever used at home.

”Look at you,” Noctis cooed, hands still holding Prompto's legs wide open. He gave a short thrust of his hips, their position not allowing anything harder or faster, but Prompto felt it all the same – a shallow slide that rubbed against him, the layers of slick between them not enough to hide the drag he so craved. Prompto panted through his open mouth and watched their reflection move on the mirror's silver surface; the distance and the shadows cast by his body made everything blurry and unclear, but he could still see the way Noctis' moved in and out of him, his thighs tensing as he lifted his hips up from the seat.

There was no way for either of them to last long, Prompto knew as soon as they truly got started. He was too keyed-up from the blowjob and all the teasing, and if the desperate, slightly uneven rhythm of their fucking was anything to go by, then Noctis was close as well. Obscene sounds filled the room; grunts and heavy breathing, moans and gasps of pleasure, the slap of skin on skin where they were joined together. Eventually, when Prompto felt lips on his neck suckling a mark onto his skin, he realized he couldn't take it anymore and reached a hand down between his legs, first to prod at the stretched skin of his hole, and then to grope himself while Noctis continued fucking into him.

Noctis was murmuring something between the little bites and nibbles, but Prompto, too gone to use his brain for anything other than being and feeling, could not understand the words. Little gasps spilled from his own lips as he jacked his flesh with the thight ring of his fingers, and on Noctis' next thrust, he pushed against it, trying to work with the rhythm he had no real control over. Once, twice, thrice he repeated his motion, and then he spilled.

As Prompto's body stretched taut as a bowstring, Noctis grunted into his shoulder, his pace increasing even after the tension disappeared from Prompto's muscles and left him pliable as a boiled noodle. Now that he had come, his hole was quickly growing over-sensitive under the still continuing assault, but sore as he was starting to feel, it was nevertheless a feeling Prompto adored and loved with all his might.

Noctis came a moment later, his body stilling just as Prompto felt the dribble of hot come flooding his hole. The loud keening sound had him smiling sloppily, a truly sated smile splitting his reflection in the mirror; Prompto stared at the haze in his own eyes, at the redness of Noctis' face, at the dick slipping free of his hole and the gush of come and leftover lube spilling from his hole to soak into Noctis' pants, and began laughing.

”Next time, you better get me underwear that actually fits me,” Prompto grumbled after the worst of the laughter had died out. Noctis huffed against his neck.

”Dunno, I was kinda digging how you looked,” he grinned. ”Like a total slut- _ow_!”

Somehow, as if he wasn't tired enough to fall asleep right then and there, Prompto found it in himself to jab his elbow into Noctis' ribs. ”Oh, shut the fuck up, dude,” he murmured, rolling his eyes as he curled against his boyfriend's chest. ”You know you loved it.”

Noctis hummed and wrapped his arms around Prompto's torso while pressing soft kisses on his neck. ”Yeah,” he sighed, smiling wide in the mirror, ”I sure as hell did.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! <3 I'm missymoth on tumblr and pillowfort both :)


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